


"Hello. My Name Is Sally Donovan. You Dumped My New BFF. Prepare to Die!"

by Kantayra



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bechdel Test Pass, Female Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/196059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sally comforts Molly after the truth about Jim comes out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Hello. My Name Is Sally Donovan. You Dumped My New BFF. Prepare to Die!"

**Author's Note:**

> A fill for [this prompt](http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/6375.html?thread=27583463#t27583463) on sherlockbbc_fic. Shameless fluffy fun.

Five hours after they’d brought Molly Hooper from the morgue in, Sally decided it was enough. “How about we call it a night?” Sally entered Lestrade’s office and gave him a pointed look.

Lestrade blinked at Sally then up at the clock. Lestrade was a good DI, but he tended to get too absorbed in his work. He looked sheepish when he realised how long they’d been questioning Molly.

Sherlock didn’t even look up. He had about fifty test tubes that contained what look like soil samples, and he was making Molly choose between them.

Molly alternated between shaking her head that she couldn’t do whatever ridiculous task Sherlock expected of her and looking like she was about to cry.

“Do you recognise this scent?” Sherlock selected another test tube and stuck it under Molly’s nose.

“I’m not sure,” Molly whimpered.

“All right, that’s enough of that.” Sally stepped between Molly and Sherlock, despite Sherlock’s exclamation of frustration, and helped Molly to her feet. “Let’s get you home.”

“I’m not done,” Sherlock complained, stepping up into Sally’s personal space until he towered over her.

Molly cringed back a little.

“Oh yes, you _are_.” Sally shoved his chest back and led Molly by the arm to the door.

Sherlock turned furious eyes to Lestrade.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait until the morning,” Lestrade informed Sherlock sternly. Lestrade turned back to Sally. “We’ll want to keep an eye on her, just in case this ‘Moriarty’ turns up again.”

Sally nodded curtly. “I’m on it.”

Lestrade looked at Sherlock, who was sniffing test tubes on his own now. “Last I checked John was taking a nap in the break room. That can’t be good for him with his arm in that sling. Why don’t we go check on him?”

Sally doubted playing to Sherlock’s non-existent sense of sympathy would buy much time and took full advantage of the brief distraction to escape, Molly in hand. “Don’t worry,” Sally assured her. “I’ve got a car, so we can get you right home.”

Molly sniffled a little as they reached the lift. “I-I need c-cat food… Toby… I haven’t fed Toby yet today. I was going to pick up more cat food after work and…” A sound like a high-pitched squeak sounded at the back of Molly’s throat.

Sally ushered her into the lift and hit the close-door button just before Molly burst into tears. “Hey, there,” Sally said a bit uncomfortably. “It’s all right. We can stop off for cat food, and you can feed Toby, and…” Sally trailed off lamely.

“Sorry,” Molly wiped away her tears. “I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not being stupid. You’ve been used by a criminal sociopath, and then again by a detective sociopath. _Men_ ,” Sally snorted. “If I were you, I wouldn’t even be sober by this point.”

Molly sniffled some more.

“Want to stop off for a pint along with the cat food?” Sally offered.

Molly shook her head raggedly. “I just want to go home.”

“All right, sure. Whatever you like.”

Molly gave Sally a wan smile and wiped at her tears. The lift doors opened, and Sally led Molly to her car.

***

After Molly had given Sally directions to her flat, she’d gone quiet. Sally had driven in silence for some time, but she’d never been the sort who could just sit there and do _nothing_. It was part of the reason she’d joined the Met, after all. Sally couldn’t stay quiet when someone else was in pain.

“Look,” Sally said, cutting through the silence of her car, “I’m not the best at this sort of thing. But I want you to know that it’s not your fault.”

Molly didn’t respond, and Sally was just starting to kick herself for making things worse when Molly finally spoke up. “Thanks,” Molly finally said in a voice barely above a whisper. “You’re sweet.”

Sally coughed awkwardly but soldiered on. “Nobody could’ve known that Jim would turn out to be a psycho. Not even Sherlock suspected it. So there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

“I don’t have to be such a wimp about it,” Molly said in a self-flagellating sort of way.

“You’re not being a wimp,” Sally assured her. “I’ve seen hardened criminals break down sobbing after less than ten minutes in interrogation with the DI and Sherlock. Hell, _I_ generally want to shoot myself after spending any time in Sherlock’s general vicinity. You did your job like a pro, and you should be proud of yourself.”

Molly let out a murmur that sounded like disagreement.

“I mean it,” Sally said. “If my boyfriend had turned out like Jim, I probably wouldn’t be able to function. I’m sure I would’ve cried in front of _everybody_.”

“I did cry in the lift,” Molly pointed out.

“Yeah, but only I saw that. And I won’t tell anybody, so it doesn’t count.”

“Really?” Molly smiled nervously at Sally.

“Really,” Sally promised and found herself smiling back. She pulled up in front of Tesco. “Now, let’s get Toby a treat. On me.”

Molly smiled almost genuinely this time.

***

They eventually arrived at Molly’s with cat food, chocolate, and three separate kinds of ice cream. Apparently, the whole thing was evolving into a girls’ night. Sally didn’t really mind, though. Watching Molly’s flat from inside was a lot more comfortable than staking it out from her car outside.

“Have a seat.” Molly took Sally’s coat and gestured to the sofa. “I’ll just go find Toby. He’s probably hiding under the bed. He hasn’t met many strangers, except—” Molly froze, mid-sentence.

“You go feed Toby,” Sally encouraged her.

“Right.” Molly vanished through a door that presumably led to the bedroom.

Sally glanced about the flat. It was exceptionally tidy if a bit…flowery for Sally’s tastes. The two sofas were white with lavender pillows. Each had a throw over the back that looked as though they were hand-made: one baby-blue with red, orange, and pink flowers woven into the design, and the other pink-and-white checked. The walls were covered with posters of Impressionist art, geek TV, and animals. Above the mantelpiece, there was a carefully arranged collage of photographs: most of Molly with a kindly, older couple (Molly’s parents, Sally assumed) and several of Molly with an enormous grey-and-white cat (Toby, no doubt). There weren’t any photos of Jim, Sally was relieved to note.

Sally sat at the end of the sofa opposite the flat-screen TV. The cabinet underneath the TV had several neat shelves of DVDs: mostly TV programmes, but a few films as well. Aside from a few police dramas, Sally didn’t spot anything much that matched her tastes.

“Here’s Toby.” Molly emerged from the bedroom, cradling a cat that roughly matched her upper torso in size. “See, Toby? You don’t have to be afraid of Sergeant Donovan.” Molly took one of Toby’s paws and made it wave at Sally.

Sally tried not to grimace. “It’s Sally, please.”

“Sally. And you can call me Molly, of course.” Molly disappeared into the kitchen with Toby.

“Right. Molly.” Sally shifted awkwardly on the sofa. She’d known Molly vaguely for years, of course, since Molly worked in the morgue, but they’d never really talked. It didn’t seem like they had much in common, either. It was a bit uncomfortable.

“Do you want some wine?” Molly asked from the kitchen. “I have a nice red.”

“Not for me, thanks. Technically, I’m still working.”

“Oh.” Molly appeared in the doorway, biting her lip. “Right. Do you really think…?” She looked wide-eyed at the door. “You don’t think he’ll come _after_ me?”

“I doubt it,” Sally tried to be comforting. “It seems like he’s more into large-scale terrorism.”

Molly worried her lip between her teeth some more. “Is it wrong that I almost _want_ him to come after me?” she finally asked, a hint of tears in her voice once more. “At least then I’d know he even _noticed_ me…”

“Hey, now. None of that.” Sally rose from the sofa just in time to catch Molly’s shoulders when the tears started again. “Come on, sit down.” Sally led her to the sofa. “He’s not worth it. Trust me, any man who’d rather blow up strangers than watch CSI with you is an _idiot_.”

A sob caught in Molly’s throat. “He’s only the second man who’s ever even _wanted_ to watch CSI with me. So I seriously doubt that.”

“Well, then, they’re _all_ idiots,” Sally concluded. “You need to stop thinking about it all. How about you pick out your favourite episode,” she gestured to the DVDs, “and I’ll get you that wine. Or maybe a nice cuppa, instead?”

Molly nodded at that, and Sally went to put on the kettle. Toby was eating voraciously from his food dish like the monster-sized feline he was. The chocolate and ice cream were still on the table. Sally put two of the cartons in the freezer, searched until she found the spoons, and returned to the living room.

“You’ll be needing this, too.” Sally handed Molly the ice cream and spoon.

“The bowls are—”

“No bowls,” Sally insisted. “This is a girls’ night. We’re eating the whole thing.”

Molly giggled at that. “I feel like such a delinquent.” She devoured a spoonful of ice cream, caramel, and chocolate. Already, she looked better for it.

“I’ll be back for my share when the tea is ready,” Sally warned and returned to the kitchen.

If Toby had been shy before, he certainly wasn’t now. He seemed to be making a game of winding around Sally’s ankles as she poured the tea, trying to trip her up. It was one of the many reasons Sally was more of a dog person, but if Toby cheered Molly up right now, Sally wasn’t about to object.

“Here you are,” Sally finally made it made to the sofa with two cups of tea, despite the feline foot-trap hindering her. “Now, share.” She brandished her own spoon.

Molly set the ice cream between them, and Sally dug in along with her. Toby continued to help by trying to jump into Sally’s lap.

“He likes you,” Molly giggled at Sally’s sour expression. “He really is friendly, just a little shy. He warmed right up to Jim, too—” Molly’s giggles died abruptly.

“All right,” Sally said forcefully. “I have it on good authority that the best way to solve your problems is to completely ignore them, eat chocolate, and watch telly.”

“I’ve never heard that theory of psychology before…”

“Well, it’s my own theory, then. Let’s try it.”

Molly nodded.

“So we have a new rule. No talking about Jim for the rest of the night. None of the rest of them, either. The only man in the world for us right now is Gil Grissom.”

“What about Greg?” Molly demanded. “I like Greg…”

“Greg is also allowed. Anyone, just as long as they don’t actually exist.”

Molly offered Sally a half-smile, although Sally could tell it was hard for Molly. “Deal.” Molly hit play.

It was a rather silly episode, the sort Sally probably would’ve skipped over if she’d been watching alone, but Molly giggled at all the right places, sighed whenever anyone flirted, and ogled Greg a lot. At least it was one of the old episodes back when even Sally had had to admit that Greg was a bit fit.

“Oh, come on!” Molly complained when they got to obligatory morgue scene. “He’s clearly not dead! Look, did you see that? Did you see? The corpse is clearly breathing. And I don’t know what kind of autopsy they think that is. Don’t they do any _research_?”

Sally was surprised to find herself laughing. CSI ranked fairly far down Sally’s list of crime dramas, but Molly’s rants more than made up for it. “You mean that’s _not_ how you hold a scalpel?” she teased.

“A scalpel’s not even the right _instrument_!” Molly complained. “And, oh look! I _hate_ it when they bungle the evidence.”

“What I hate is when they bungle the arrests.” Sally scraped the bottom of the container for the last of the ice cream. “That’s not how you cuff a suspect! It’d serve her right if he knocked her flat on her arse and got away.”

Molly snickered. “They should do a programme like that, a comedy! Where the police and forensics and everybody does everything wrong.”

Sally snickered, too. “You mean basically every programme on the telly?”

Molly stuck her spoon into the ice cream container and hit bottom. She frowned. “We’re out already?”

“Shall I get another?”

Molly sighed. “I should probably eat something proper for dinner…”

“Chinese?”

“Perfect.”

***

By the time the food arrived, Sally had had it with CSI. And, given that Molly had started sniffling when the last episode had involved a murdering boyfriend, Sally had suggested they watch something else instead.

“Do you like Meg Ryan?” Molly asked, thumbing through her DVDs.

Sally made a face. “How about ‘Thelma and Louise.’ Seems like a good night for that.”

“Sorry, don’t own it,” Molly said despondently. “Ooh! How about ‘The Princess Bride’?”

Sally coughed. “I’m not really one for Disney, sorry.”

“It’s not Disney.”

“Romance, then.”

“It’s not really romance either.” Molly paused and frowned. “Wait, do you mean to tell me you’ve never _seen_ ‘The Princess Bride’?”

“Not really my thing,” Sally shook her head.

Molly was already taking the DVD out of the case and putting it in the player. “How do you know it’s not your thing if you haven’t tried it?”

“Well, princess for one. And bride for another.”

Molly smiled a secretive little smile that was downright wicked. “Oh, you have no idea what you’re in store for…” She hit play.

Sally sighed and reached for the lo mein. Honestly, the things she did for her job…

***

Five minutes later, Sally snickered for the first time. “‘Is this a kissing book?’ indeed.” She gave Molly a suspicious look.

Molly smirked knowingly.

***

Ten minutes later, at “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means,” Sally let out a definite chortle.

***

Half an hour after that, it had turned to downright howling. “Rodents of Unusual Size? Who _wrote_ this, and what were they _smoking_?”

Molly shook her head and smiled into her hand.

***

By the end, Sally had to admit she’d been seriously misjudging ‘The Princess Bride’ all these years.

“Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya!” Sally hiccoughed she was laughing so hard. “You killed my father! Prepare to—” And around that point, she burst out laughing so much that she couldn’t even finish.

“Prepare to die!” Molly exclaimed, brandishing one of her chopsticks like a sword.

“Oh, that was _brilliant_!” Sally exclaimed, forcing back tears of laughter. “Why didn’t anybody ever tell me it’s a _comedy_?”

“I can’t believe you’d never seen it before. The girls got together and watched it all the time back at uni.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I’ve never really had girls to watch films with,” Sally considered. “I grew up with all brothers. Not like any of them would know about this.”

“Hmm, I suppose not,” Molly agreed. “How many brothers do you have?”

“Three,” Sally groaned. “All older. It was a nightmare. Taught me how to kick their arses, though. You have to learn that with three brothers, you know.”

Molly nodded even though she obviously didn’t know at all. “But no sisters? I grew up an only child, and I always thought I might like a sister.”

“I _wish_ ,” Sally agreed. “I could’ve used an ally, trying to keep that bathroom habitable.”

Molly giggled. “A sister would have been nice,” she agreed. “We could hang out and paint our nails and watch telly together. Just like this.”

“Just like this, except the nail-painting part,” Sally laughed.

Molly got a devious look in his eyes, much like she had before she’d forced Sally to watch ‘The Princess Bride.’

“Oh,” Sally said in alarm, “no!”

Molly pounced.

***

Sally had grown up with three older brothers, all of whom were bigger than she was, and two of whom played rugby. And she really wasn’t lying when she said she could kick all of their arses. It had taken a lot of martial arts training, but she could do it.

Somehow, despite all this, she was rendered helpless against shy, mousy Molly. After five minutes of being pinned, Sally had surrendered. As a result, she was now sitting obediently while Molly painted her nails bright chartreuse.

“Where’d you learn to do that, anyway?” Sally asked as Molly blew on her nails.

“What? Oh, you mean the wrestling thing?” Molly looked up at her.

“Wrestling. You.” Sally didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but Molly was such a frail-looking thing.

“I loved to watch it with my dad when I was little.” Molly started on Sally’s left hand. “And then I wanted to try it once I started school. Of course, my school didn’t have a girls’ wrestling team. But my parents were always keen on letting me explore my interests, even if they were a bit odd. I was top of my weight group in London by the time I finished secondary school.”

“That…” Sally really didn’t know what to say, “is fantastic.”

Molly beamed at her.

“Say,” Sally watched Molly paint her pinky nail, “when we’re done here, do you think you could show me a few of those moves?”

“I’ll get out the quilt, and we can have ourselves a match!” Molly enthused.

***

In the end, it wasn’t so much a match as a slaughter, and Sally was fairly certain Toby’s hairs from Molly’s quilt were permanently embedded in her nose. Still, she did pick up a couple neat holds that she couldn’t wait to try on Sam, George, and Tom next time they were all home together.

“You’re a fast learner.” Molly sat on the floor on her quilt, her back against the sofa. She was a bit out of breath at least. Sally took some satisfaction in that.

“You don’t have to lie to me. I can handle the truth.” Sally stayed on her back, staring up at the ceiling and panting for breath.

“All right, fine. You’re pants at it,” Molly teased.

Sally swatted her playfully in the leg.

“But seriously,” Molly said more soberly, “I wish the girls I’d grown up with were more like you. I might have had some friends, then.”

Sally gave her a curious look.

Molly’s face flamed red, and she looked away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It makes me sound pathetic, doesn’t it?”

“A bit, yeah,” Sally admitted.

Molly looked back at her. “You’re very honest, aren’t you?”

“That’s a nice way of putting it,” Sally groaned. “Some people would say blunt. Ruder people would say bitchy.”

“I think you’re honest,” Molly insisted. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Sally snorted. “It’s what comes from growing up with too many brothers.”

“Yeah, well, you could’ve grown up with no brothers and no friends. You’d go to an all-girls’ school, but you’d like wrestling. And then you’d like kittens and romance and work in a morgue.” Molly snorted, too. “God, I hate my life. It makes no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense,” Sally said. “You do the things you like, and everybody else can go fuck themselves. More people should be like you.”

“You really think so?” Molly sounded so sad and hopeful. “You don’t think I’m…odd?”

“I think everybody’s a little odd. The _really_ odd ones are the ones who don’t realise it.”

Molly’s eyes were practically sparkling at that. “That’s very profound.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it really is.” Molly leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You know, I’m almost glad all this happened. Not the explosions and all those poor people dying, of course, or even – you know – Jim.” Molly’s voice wavered a little on that name, but she pushed on. “But I’m glad we finally got to chat. To think that I’d seen you around all these years, but I never knew how sweet you are.”

“ _God_ , don’t call me that. Especially not around the Yard. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“It’s true, though,” Molly insisted. “Why wouldn’t you want to be sweet? It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Sally offered her a wry smile. “I’m starting to think that you’re very honest as well. Just…sneakier about it.”

Molly grinned at her.

“Maybe I don’t want a sister,” Sally concluded. “A sister like you might’ve been too much for me to handle.”

Molly laughed.

***

Sally didn’t even remember when she’d fallen asleep. Given that she was supposed to be on duty, that was a little concerning. When she woke up, though, the sun was rising and something very heavy was poking her repeatedly in the bladder.

Sally groaned, pushed Toby aside, and ran for the toilet. Toby maiowed in protest and followed her. Apparently, he wanted to be fed _immediately_. Sally took great pleasure in shutting the door in his face.

When Sally returned to Molly’s living room, she found that after she’d fallen asleep the night before, Molly must have provided her with pillows and extra covers. It was a comfy little nest, and Sally found herself smiling as she headed into the kitchen to put on the kettle. Toby followed her, still whining all the while.

Sally poured out a little cat food. Hopefully, it wasn’t too much, since she really didn’t know how much cats ate. Toby looked like he was fully capable of devouring the whole bag. Toby seemed content with what Sally had given him, however, so at least that was probably all right.

Sally was just pouring the tea when Molly appeared, rubbing her eyes blearily.

“I dread to ask: how much ice cream did I eat last night?” Molly groaned and clutched her stomach.

“I didn’t know you could suffer from ice-cream hangovers,” Sally teased.

Molly sighed and collapsed onto one of the kitchen chairs.

“Tea?” Sally offered.

“God, yes.”

They drank their tea in silence for a few minutes.

“I suppose I’d better pretty myself up to prepare for the inquisition again,” Molly finally sighed.

Sally gave her an apologetic look. “He _is_ a dangerous criminal. Any clues you provide could help save lives.”

“I’m not sniffing any more soil samples, though,” Molly insisted.

Sally snickered. “Probably your sanest bet.”

Molly smiled at Sally, but it was half-faded, like she was sad on the inside. “Thanks for keeping me company last night. You didn’t have to do that, really.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Sally insisted. “It was fun.” And, surprisingly, it had been. Sally had never thought herself the type to enjoy silly comedies, chocolate ice cream, nail polish, and grumpy cats. After all, she’d always been one of the boys. But she’d had a blast last night. Maybe she needed more female friends…

Molly didn’t look like she believed Sally.

“We should do it again some time,” Sally offered. “Really.”

Molly bit her lip but didn’t answer.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Sally reached over to touch Molly’s hand.

“Oh, nothing,” Molly sniffled a little. “Just, you know, _everything_.”

“None of that, now.” Sally gave Molly’s hand a squeeze. “In fact, better make ‘some time’ tonight. You’ll need it if Sherlock’s back at the Yard today.”

Molly looked up at Sally in surprise. “Really? You mean it?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Sally looked puzzled.

“It just seems like ‘some time’ usually translates to ‘never.’” Molly looked so sad that Sally suddenly had the urge to punch everyone who’d ever hurt Molly in the face.

“Well, not with me. I’m honest, remember?”

“Yeah,” Molly smiled shyly, “I do.”

“So we’ll pretty ourselves up and then head back to the Yard, all right?” Sally offered. “And tonight we’re renting ‘Thelma and Louise.’”

Molly made a face. “I’ve heard that’s a bit of a downer, though?”

Sally blinked at her. “You’ve never seen ‘Thelma and Louise.’”

Molly shook her head.

“Trust me. This is necessary. It can be the start our new chick-flick night.”

Molly smiled at the thought. “Well, with that to look forward to, I suppose today can’t be too bad. Plus, at least I’ll get to spend time with Sherlock.” Molly twirled her hair around one finger and smiled dreamily to herself.

Sally gave her an incredulous look. “Sherlock? Seriously? No. You’re kidding, right? _Sherlock_?”

Molly blushed and nodded.

“Well, now we _need_ to be BFFs,” Sally concluded.

Molly beamed.

“Because I have _got_ to fix your taste in men.”

Molly swatted Sally in the shoulder and went to get ready. Neither of them stopped smiling the entire time, however.


End file.
